Tainted Innocence
by Bluedog270
Summary: Moving to NYU was her only chance to get away from her horrendous home-life; to finally be able to escape. But some demons followed her there and her only chance at being saved is by a geeky guy whose hair holds more mousse than half the city. / slight au, coose. friendship, angst, two-shot. [re-edited as of 2-11-16]
1. i - lost

~Author's Note~

Newly **re-written**. Thank you guys for your tremendous support in my first ever Step Up fic! All of the reviews, favorites, follows and views mean a ton to me!

**Rated Teen** for minor language, heavy suggestive themes, romance pieces and mentions of past child abuse.

**Notes:** This is slightly au, because of the plot line but I hope it still stays true to their true characters, even if the plot is somewhat dark. This story is based off of the songs _Never Too Late_ and _Pain by Three Days Grace_ (song lyrics removed for safety). This chapter takes place in what would be Step Up 3.

* * *

Tainted Innocence

**Lost_  
_**_"__Innocence is not meant to be taken or lost. It is meant to keep you sane."_

* * *

Camille Gage didn't have a good life.

She didn't have caring parents willing to buy her the latest styles.

She didn't have any good friends.

She didn't have anything.

Her mother died during childbirth. Her father went on a rampage, scaring Camille forever and landing himself in jail. Her older brother Tyler took off with her younger brother when she was seven, she was never his favorite.

She lived with abusive foster parents who would do anything just to get her to feel like nothing—sometimes it seemed like they enjoyed her pain.

The pain of being alone, the pain of feeling like nothing.

It was the times when the two malicious adults would taunt Camille about her scar that were the worse because she could never do anything about it.

The scar was a part of her, a bold reminder of the past she could never escape from. Over the years the bruises and cuts and vile words had followed her were nothing like the pain she felt right now.

Alone, cold, empty.

Nothing.

Her dorm room was too quiet. She didn't want to hear the dreadful sound of the rain pounding on the window from outside like an invisible cage. Camille sat on her bed, her legs tucked in so she was sitting in the form of a curled up ball. She came here to be free, to finally get away from all the shit back home.

But right now, she would rather be home under the scornful words of her 'parents'.

She left her home of Maryland just about a day ago, after scraping up enough money from the jobs she juggled while she was in high school. Moving to the dorms of NYU by herself was harder than she thought it would be but she managed. Her minor amount of boxes were all unpacked already, her clothes neatly folded away in her dresser while the small collection of books she owned were perched on the shelf above her bed.

She didn't have a roommate; apparently no one wanted to share a room with 'the monster'.

She had only been in NYU a day and the nicknames and teasing had already started, each word latching onto her heart like pieces of broken glass that you couldn't avoid. Her first day of actual school was tomorrow and she was apprehensive. Scratch that, she was horrified.

How would she hide the scar?

Would people snicker all throughout her classes so that Camille couldn't properly focus?

What about in the dance class she was taking?

How in the hell was she going to hide the other marks and welts and nicks when she got changed?

She felt dizzy from the amount of overwhelming thoughts that entered her head, signing as she stared at the blank white wall in front of her. The immature boys were always worse than the girls somehow. It did truly scare her when one would make a death threat to her in high school, because she knew there was a possibly it could happen with the strength every guy seemed to have.

She didn't even have a cellphone, in case she ever needed to call for help—no one would be there.

No one ever was.

She signed once more before closing her eyes and praying that tomorrow would at least be bearable.

That was all she asked for.

* * *

"Ms. Chloe Jean Pact?"

The teacher, Camille realized in a panic, was young. That fact alone meant she couldn't sneak out of her Advanced Writing class without being noticed by Ms. Carrie's grey, stormy hawk-like eyes.

Ms. Carrie was only in her thirties with some obnoxious blue glasses that were balanced upon her nose while she carefully read out each student's name to make sure she didn't mispronounce anything. Her blonde hair was messily thrown into a bun, sole strands sticking out in some places.

"Here," The girl answered as Ms. Carrie moved on to the next person on her list. Camille was freaking out on the inside.

It was a small class, only about fifteen kids but that didn't calm Camille down at all.

These fifteen infuriating, adolescent, sophomoric teenagers were about to hear her full name and to say she was scared to death was an understatement. She was named after her mom; before her dad went berserk he had enough sense to give her the middle name of the woman he loved most in the world.

Her whole past was going to be said right out in the open.

But her mom's name was different, and weird in some sense.

Of course her first name was different too but nothing like her middle name.

Her whole life she always went through the struggle of hiding her middle name from her foster parents and teachers and now the name was printed in provoking black ink, watching and waiting to ruin Camille's life even more.

She could have a panic attack right now, which would get her out of class.

"Mr. Robert Julius Alexander?" Camille looked around the room for the owner of the name, seeing one boy wince from the blunt use of his middle name. Camille signed; sadly knowing the teacher was getting closer and closer to her name, even if she was still on the A's.

Her heart was beating faster and faster.

She felt like she was going to explode.

How was she going to survive?

It was always kill or be killed her whole life but this was just hectic.

"It's the third actually." The boy's voice was infected by the aftermath of a laugh. His voice seemed to calm Camille in a sense. "Robert Alexander the third. But you can call me Moose."

Some of the boys sitting around him snickered, and Camille easily assumed that were his friends by the large smile he sported on his face afterwards.

She was able to get a good look at him without the other teenager noticing; the hat she wore to hide her scar caused her orbs to be concealed. Moose wore a beaten up grey beanie that hid the crazy brown curly hair beneath, Camille wondering how curly his hair truly was when it wasn't matted down by a hat. His irises were bright with a playful gleam, and she was could tell by the way he spoke to his friends that he was a cocky person. But not in a nasty attitude, more like a muted playful attitude hidden within.

Camille was told by her Aunt Gracie that she was great at reading people.

A simple black hoodie was thrown over his shoulders, covering the grey V-neck underneath. His form seemed tall and scrawny. Black jeans fished off his look and she envied him already. She didn't know where he came from, who he really was or what happened with his life but she was jealous of what he did have. It seemed like he had so much versus her never having anything at all.

That book collection in her dorm room?

She had reread the same books for at least the twentieth time just an hour ago, to calm her nerves before her first class of the day.

"Ms. Camille Serenity Gage."

It seemed like her heart stopped right then and there. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't even notice that Ms. Carrie had quickly gone through any names in front of hers and now she had just spoken hers, spoke her middle name out loud for every damn person in the room to hear.

It seemed like a million eyes turned to stare at her, all she wanted to do was pull her baseball cap down farther down her face.

"Here," her voice was quiet, near unobtrusive.

She saw Ms. Carrie look her way swore the older woman almost; almost give a malevolent sneer in her direction.

"Ms. Gage,"

She could feel Moose's eyes burning a hole into the back of her head from across the room.

Why would he care?

"There is a strict no hats allowed during class policy. Please take it off,"

Camille wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. It was funny, at the start of class she had wondered why a seemingly nice lady like Ms. Carrie wasn't married yet. Apparently, heartless people kept their inner nastiness hidden away for any students they didn't mind. The same couldn't be said for Camille.

Ms. Carrie seemed to glower at her with a look of bewilderment when Camille didn't move to take her prized hat off her head. It was in her medical records that if needed, Camille was allowed to wear a hat to hide her scar if she felt 'insecure' about the situation. Camille knew her medical files were transferred correctly, she checked in with the principal before school started.

She struggled to find her voice before the witch of a woman spoke again.

"I-It's on my f-file." She mentally cursed at herself for stumbling over her words, hearing the stubbed laughter of students grow brash in her ears.

"Excuse me?" Camille cleared her throat and subconsciously fumbled with her fingers. Her cheeks grew warm as she spoke louder this time, making sure her point would get across.

"On my file there's a—"

"Oh please Ms. Gage, spare my time. I've heard every excuse in the book. Take it off now or else your time here at NYU will be nonexistent."

Some of the boys in the back of the classroom sniggered, one standing up and making a scene out of the situation. "Yeah Gage, take that shit off—this isn't high school anymore!"

Ms. Carrie quickly scanned through her seating chart to see who had called out, as the class erupted into mad laughter. Camille could hear the small rumble of Moose's voice trying to shut his friends up but she knew it was useless.

Everyone loved laughter.

Just not her.

"Mr. Jefferson, please take your seat. Class, quiet down."

Camille knew she had to take her hat off, she didn't have another choice. The rumble of noise slowly quieted down and Ms. Carrie gave her one last warning look before starting her lesson. Carefully the older woman wrote down the title of the first unit and while everyone else started to write down notes, Camille pulled her hat off her head in one swift movement.

She could feel the stares and hear the whispers, even if the room was completely silent as Ms. Carrie taught her lesson.

The nineteen year old girl just kept her gaze on her hat for the rest of class, glad she still had one thing left from home. She stole this ratty old hat from Tyler when they were little, she couldn't had been no older than five. It was the one thing from her life that was connected to good memories of Tyler chasing her through the house—his loud, carefree laughs echoing through the empty house.

Moose observed her from his seat across the room, watching how she carefully played with the pieces of black string sticking off the front of the cap. It was one bad-ass looking hat, if Moose did say so himself. It was black all around, with the words DC in white, outlined by neon green. On the backside of the hat was a small star in neon green with a stripe running through sideways. Moose would wear a hat like that; it was his style—even if he preferred beanies to cover his barren curls.

The hat matched what Camille was wearing, even if she was wearing a black sweatshirt with black sweatpants.

To anyone else, it would seem Camille had an obsession with death. But to Moose, she seemed like a normal girl who was just misread. The caramel hair she had tied in a ponytail on her head seemed long and soft, Moose wanted to see what it looked like without being messily thrown into a ponytail.

The sweatshirt hung loose on her body, it was easily three sizes too big for her slender body. The thing that stuck out the most was the scar located on her left cheek, it wasn't small nor was it huge. It was big enough to be noticeable to the bare eye, but Moose thought it just added difference to her; that it made her look unique. He understood why she wanted to hide it so much, but she honestly didn't need to.

It just looked like someone had gotten a little too crazy and had something in their hand with an accidental hit to her cheek. It looked painful but it was mostly just discolored and skin that didn't heal properly.

Suddenly, she turned her head to look over at him and he diverted his eyes completely, not being able to _not_ notice how warm her brown orbs looked. She looked back down at her hat after a few more seconds, silence pursuing the rest of class.

As soon as the bell rung, Camille quickly grabbed her things and rushed out of class, wanting to get to her next class as soon as possible—even if the terrors of contemptuous dancing awaited her.

She made it halfway to dance class before a hand softly grabbed her arm, causing the girl to jump and flinch in surprise all at the same time.

"Hey, hey it's alright. It's just me, and I promise I'm not that bad to hand around with." Camille scolded herself for thinking someone had caught up from her past and was about to hurt her. How stupid she was . . . she turned towards Moose, who had a small smile on his face. She wanted to yank her hat back down over her face again, to hide her features.

She didn't wear any makeup and she sure as hell didn't believe herself to be pretty. She saw his eyes move from her hat down to her shadowed scar and then to her lips.

Camille snapped herself out of trying to decode the boy standing in front of her and spoke; her voice low as they stood off to the side of the hallway. "Sorry, I'm a little jumpy . . ."

She allowed her voice to trail off as she glanced down at his limited edition green and sliver Nikes. Seems like a pair of shoes Tyler would have collected back in the day.

"Everyone is jumpy on the first day of school. I'm Moose by the way, Camille right?" She nodded, looking up at him. He laughed, shaking his head. "I just wanted to tell you something real fast . . ."

Camille felt her stomach churn, erasing the butterflies that had been floating around only seconds before.

This was where he was going to say he hated her and—

"Can you trust me?" His voice jolted her out of her thoughts and she allowed puzzlement to cross her face. The funny part was, she didn't have a problem with trusting him—there was some invisible force telling her to trust him completely no matter what. He reached out towards her hat and carefully pulled it off her head, his other hand falling to her cheek.

His thumb traced over her scar gently and his eyes didn't leave the contact of her's.

She couldn't help but melt at his touch, even though it was completely irrational.

He could be some type of murderer for God's sake.

"Just so you know Camille, I think it's beautiful."

* * *

Moose escorted Camille to dance class after that, considering he had the same class. He had struck up multiple conversations with her the short distance to their class. No matter how hard she tried to allow the silence to trap her, he wouldn't allow it and instead would allow a question to leave his lips and in a way it would force her to at least answer and say something.

Camille admired how he didn't want the conversation to end, how he kept trying to find different ways to keep it alive. It was like he enjoyed being in her company, like he actually enjoyed _her_.

She felt happy by the time they walked in the dance room, and he even had her laughing at her next statement. They headed over to the bleachers towards the side of the room and she felt his hand softly grip her shoulder just as she was about to sit down.

"Hey just give me one sec to go and say a few things to my friends." Camille sent him a small smile and nodded, Moose releasing her arm as he threw down his bag and looked at her again. "Do you want to come and say hi?"

She didn't hesitate in shaking her head; "No, it's alright. I'll wait right here."

Moose sent her another grin. "Alright, just one second I promise I'll be right back."

He turned and stalked off to the other side of the gym room the dance class took place in, Camille laughing quietly to herself in his absence. She took a seat and played with her hat quietly.

Moose had insisted that she keep her hat off her head for the rest of the day, saying how she looked 'so damn beautiful without it on'.

Camille got lost in her own thoughts before someone came and broke her mindless mulling.

"Don't have your hat on Gage?" She looked up just in time to see the same boy from her last class laughing loudly at his oh-so-hilarious joke.

"Go away," She muttered, trying to sound as careless as possible.

"Now why would I do that? I would much rather make sure no one else has to gauge their eyes out after seeing that disgusting thing. God, cover it up." Camille instantly lifted her hand up and covered her scar, the insecurity taking control of her shamefully. She stayed silent as he took a step closer to her, Camille wishing he would just go away. "It is a shame; if you didn't have that shitty scar I would totally—"

"Cass, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Camille nearly sighed in relief after hearing Moose's voice cut him off.

Cass Jefferson looked up at Moose with a loud laugh after seeing his disgruntled features. He pushed his jet black hair out of his azure eyes while Camille quickly threw her hat on her head, hoping everything would just go away.

Moose looked pissed as he made his way in front of Cass; his fists were clenched in full resentment.

"Get the hell away from her Cass; go screw around with your friends instead." They seemed like they had history, Camille thought with remorse. Now Moose was being dragged into something that wasn't even his battle and she hated it.

"Oh little Moose coming to the rescue,"

"Cass I'm warning you—"

Moose took a step towards him and Camille knew she had to interrupt or else Moose would get beaten into nothingness. The older boy had a bulky frame, his green Nike sleeveless shirt showing his bare biceps in their full glory.

"Moose,"

Luckily he was close enough so Camille could grab his arm to remind him not to do anything stupid.

"This bitch already has you wrapped around her pathetic little finger," Cass snapped, the dance teacher called attention before Moose could react and the older boy headed towards his friends.

Moose took a seat next to Camille and she grabbed his hand, in a solemn thank you of some sorts. She felt Moose squeeze her hand just as the teacher started talking.

"Hello class, I'm Mr. Davis and I just want to start dancing already. You sighed up for this so that is all you get. Now pair up and start dancing!" When no one moved, the elder man rolled his eyes. "Let's go!" His deep voice resounded around the gym and for a long-standing man with sliver-grey hair he was damn perky; Camille thought with interest.

Camille watched as everyone around her got into pairs and fear seized her.

Moose grabbing her arm snapped her out of it, a calmer feeling replacing her fear. "Want to work together?" Camille instantly nodded her head, beyond grateful that he didn't leave her.

"As long as you can dance," She answered with a carefree laugh, Moose rolling his eyes as he guided her over to the middle of the room. Her eyes widened at his bold action, simply the fact of everyone now being able to see them dance scared her. Mr. Davis was over by the stereo, scrolling through his iPod for a song.

"Wait here," The mysterious tone of his voice sent shivers down Camille's spine as he ran over to Mr. Davis and suggested a song to which the teacher started playing instantly.

He walked back over to where Camille was standing just in time for the first beat of simple hip hop music to start playing. He started out dancing with some simple moves, and then a sudden base drop appeared and Moose followed the beat intently, his body popping and swaying to every single drop.

Camille couldn't help the smile that was gallant on her face, as Moose kept a pleasant grin on his face. Some invisible force begged her to show off to the gawking students standing around them, to show all those ungrateful assholes that she was something.

Maybe it was the reassuring grin on Moose's face.

Maybe it was the urge to be something more.

Maybe it was the rude comments Cass was shouting her way over the music.

All Camille knew was that in seconds, her body was moving to the beat of the remix; her bad-ass freestyle causing even Cass to grow silent. Moose froze and watched Camille with awe, his heartbeat loud and pounding in his ears. His eyes watched her every move, how her body matched the beat perfectly.

He truly loved how she looked; he truly loved the way she danced.

Moose took a step towards her, about to grab her hand and tug her body towards his but suddenly the angel in front of him twisted her foot in the wrong direction; her body flying to the ground. She tried to do the reverse move Tyler had taught her, knowing for sure it would've awed everyone.

But she did it wrong.

It took Moose a second to react, and she was already on the ground before he reached her side and placed his hand on her side. She winced at the contact, feeling a burning pain where his hand had just rested. He pulled his hand back, worried.

"Cam?" He questioned; his tone full of torment. That's when all hell broke loose as Cass started firing off joke after joke- causing the whole class to crack up in laughter.

Camille felt the tears prick her eyes as she pushed Moose away from her and stood up; running towards the door.

"Camille!" She ignored Moose's cries as she headed back to her dorm room.

It took him a while to track down where exactly her dorm room was.

He tried asking around, but all he was answered by was chuckles and sneers. He signed as he approached her door, wondering if her roommate was there comforting her.

He felt his heart race as he raised his hand to knock, taking a deep breath before he rasped his knuckles on the dark wood. He heard shuffling from the other side of the door and Moose felt a smile tug at his lips. She was okay. But that was crazy—Moose always thought she would be okay, that was the logical thing. Why his mind had even wandered to other places—

"M-Moose?" Camille's voice was quiet when she answered the door, shocked that the nineteen year old was even proudly standing before her. She didn't think he would even show.

She didn't think he would even care.

His eyes locked on hers for a few moments before traveling down her body and landing on the left side of her ribcage. Her left hand was holding her blue t-shirt in such a fashion that her entire left side was showing—bluntly broadcasting the medium sized gash located there.

She was able to see the shock in his eyes instantly and before she could drop her shirt, he was already next to her with his warm hand resting directly below the cut.

"Is this from earlier?" Camille didn't trust herself to speak so she just nodded, regretting not telling a lie the moment she saw the look that crossed his face. She felt his fingers barely ghost over the cut, wincing anyway.

"I'll be fine, I always am." She sent him a forged smile.

"Cam, this looks bad. Maybe you should—"

She let her shirt fall, causing Moose to remove his hand and send her an inquisitive glare. "I will be fine." She stated firmly, noticing Moose's fit figure promptly slacking with relief at her strict words.

If only he could see how much worse she had been through . . .

"Can I come in?"

"As long as you don't complain about how I can dance better than you, then sure." He entered and she closed the door behind him, walking over and taking a seat on her bed.

"Wait a minute, who said your better than me? No one can match these sick moves." He said as he showed a robot-like move, finishing off with some freestyle.

"Alright Moose, believe what you want to believe."

Camille laughed, as he grumbled something about being the best as he took a seat next to her on the bed. His shoulder bumped against hers, and she turned to look at him. "I came here to make sure you were okay after what happened." The tone of his voice seemed to be dancing around a different thing he didn't want to shed any light on and Camille decided to leave it alone.

She shrugged her shoulders. "It was just a fall Moose, I'll be fine."

His helpless stare was burning a hole through her irises.

"Camille," The way her name rolled off his lips—he seemed desperate for something. "I meant Cass being an asshole. He hurt you, I could tell."

She wanted to object and say it wasn't possible for him to know anything about her, considering he didn't even know her.

She had no choice but to stay silent.

To say she didn't trust herself to speak was an understatement. Camille crawled to the top of her bed, resting her body against the headboard and closing her eyes.

"I've gotten use to the taunting Moose. After dealing with it for over nineteen years, you just get used to it." She can feel his body weight shift as he moves from the end of the room to beside her, pulling her small frame against his side in a hug.

"I've known you for eight hours, twenty three minutes and sixteen seconds. And I figured out it would suck if I hadn't had meant you."

She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. "Moose?"

"Yeah?"

"You just made up the numbers didn't you?" Her tone was in a playful matter, accusing all the same.

He just pulled her closer in response, Camille moving to rest her head on his chest.

"Maybe. But I would do anything to make sure you feel like you aren't nothing."

She let a bitter laugh escape her, "I think I am close to nothing. Not too many people care what happens to me. Nobody actually,"

She felt the hand resting on her back start to rub up and down, like a calming lullaby.

"Your smart, your funny, your favorite animal is a gecko, you're from Maryland, you came here to get away from your home, your dad is in jail and your so damn beautiful."

She looked up at him then, about to throw some type of logic in his face but the look that wormed its way across his face stopped her completely.

It was a look she couldn't figure out, surprised by that simple fact because he was as easy to read as a book.

His voice was rough when he talked, laced with a true intention.

"You aren't nothing Chameleon. You are everything."

* * *

"Cam!" Camille was sitting on a bench outside of NYU's entrance; a pair of light blue beats headphones sitting on top of her head.

I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace was blasting through the speakers, preventing her from hearing Moose as he walked over to her.

Once he saw her relaxed form lost within the song's meaningful words, he simply took a seat next to her, touching her shoulder softly.

She jumped at the contact at first but after turning and seeing it was Moose sitting there with a smug smile on his face she rolled her eyes and shook her head; not bothering to remove her headphones.

Moose laughed, moving closer to her so he could take on side and lift it up to his ear to listen in. He softly started to sing the lyrics as they appeared, being fairly familiar with the song. Camille listened both to the music blasting and to Moose's soft singing—finding tranquility in the odd mix.

They had been friends for about five months now, Cass hadn't bothered to mess with Camille since Moose had dubbed her as 'his best friend in the whole wide world' (the amount of nicknames he had for her was outstanding).

He introduced her to some of his friends—Monster, Kido, Vladd—who all had welcomed Camille with open arms. Everyone always assumed that Moose and Camille had known the other their entire lives; they seemed to be attached at the hip.

The care he showed for Camille on a daily was enough for his friends to tease him about hooking up with her non-stop and Moose yet still seemed to be obvious to everything.

Even the growing feelings Camille started to gain towards him.

She wasn't one to send subtle hints or gloat or any of that shit—she just hoped he would see it someday.

Maybe someday soon.

The song ended after a moment, Camille taking off the headphones and setting them carefully beside her. She turned to Moose, who seemed to be anxious as he tried to avoid her curious eyes. She grabbed his hand, causing him to look up at her.

"Moose," She questioned, "what's wrong?" He shook his head, another way of secretly saying he was too afraid to say what was really on his mind. "Come on Moose, you can tell me." She continued, hoping that what he was about to say wasn't something horrible.

She heard him sigh, as he locked his eyes with hers. "Cammie, I need to tell you something. But . . ." He trailed off, his sentence staying open as he struggled to find the right words. "I'm scared that if I tell you it will ruin—"

"Spit it out Moose, it can't be that bad—"

Suddenly her words were cut off by Moose's lips pressed delicately against her's, showing her what he desperately wanted to say. It took her a second to react before she relaxed and allowed herself to get lost in the feeling of his soft lips. His hand came up to cup her cheek as her arms wrapped around his neck, beyond pleased that this was actually happening.

He pulled away after a few more moments of pure bliss to stop himself from going too far—plus he figured they both needed some air. They stayed close to each other, their foreheads touching.

Camille was breathing heavy as she looked into his eyes and saw only pure admiration.

Was this real?

"If—"

She shook her head to stop him, feeling his nose rub against hers.

"Just tell me one thing Moose," He looked at her, a smile gracing his features.

"Anything Chameleon," His voice was heavy with something she assumed was yearning.

"Is this real?" Her tone of voice came out breathless, as he chuckled; Camille feeling the beautiful rumble of his laugh.

"As real as you want it to be."

His lips were back on hers within seconds after her desired answer.

* * *

"Moose," Her voice held hints of uncertainty as they approached her house and he shook his head—silently cutting her off.

"Stop it Cammie. I'll protect you. I promise." He pulled her close to his side with his arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

"You can't always protect me Moose; these are the people that strive in my nightmares."

"Cam I will be damned if I at least don't try to save you from your own personal hell."

It was summer time.

Everything was in full bloom; everything had an air of cheerfulness attached.

Moose and Camille were on summer break and it had been six months since their relationship was started up and the two were still going strong.

Everything was going perfect until about three weeks ago.

They were lost in a heated moment and Moose had started to tug her shirt off, Camille forgetting about all the marks and scars that had forever branded her.

He then saw everything, Camille wasn't able to lie her way through and continue on lie she wasn't being haunted by her own personal demons.

Moose had demanded to be told the truth right then and there, Camille having the choice to either destroy their love or relive her nightmares.

She went with the latter, telling him everything. Now here they were, back in Maryland for Moose to help Camille end everything.

They were here to tell them that she was never coming back.

Again.

She raised her hand to knock on the door and then froze—memories of past times overwhelming her. His reassuring voice brought her back to the present as the door unexpectedly opened, Camille's foster father standing before them.

"What in the hell is all of the fucking noise—"

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Camille standing there, fear written over her every feature.

"What are you doing back here?" He hissed, and Camille could tell by Moose's rigid posture that he was growing more pissed off by the moment.

"I-I just wanted to t-tell you something." The man that stood before them was livid, irritated—he wanted to bash her head in.

"Spit it out then bitch—"

"Don't you _dare _call her that you ungrateful bastard." Camille flinched when she heard Moose's emotionless voice break her father's words, knowing that the aftermath was going to be pure hell.

"What did you just call m—"

Camille cut him off frantically, not wanting Moose to get hurt.

"I'm never coming back. So don't come looking for me, don't ever try to find me because you are no longer in charge of me anymore."

The older man stared at her for a moment, Moose grabbing her hand and starting to take a step backwards.

"Well then fuck off and never come back." With that final word, he slammed the door and Camille stood there shocked. She had done it. Moose led her back towards the road where his old Camaro sat waiting for them.

"Why didn't you just let me rip his head off?" He questioned sourly as they made it to the car, Moose starting it up. Camille shook her head, knowing what her father was capable of.

"It's finally over Moose, why add wood to the fire?"

"Well—"

She leaned over and brought his lips to hers, shutting him up before a smart-ass comment could leave his mouth. It was like their first kiss all over again, but this was more lustful yet full of relief. She pulled away, pushing some of his curly hair out of his eyes.

"I love you Moose."

"I love you too Cammie, but I still want to kick his ass." She chuckled, shaking her head.

"You don't need to Moose, because I'm never coming back here. I finally found somewhere where I belong."


	2. ii - found

~Author's Note~

**Notes:** This chapter takes place during the movie verse of Step Up All In and that's how Moose and Camille look as well.

**Shout-Outs: **A shout out to _luakinaga_ for giving me some ideas for the 'scars' moment. Without that, this second chapter wouldn't have happened. So thank you so much. :)

* * *

Tainted Innocence

**Found  
**_"You can try to forget your scars but sadly, they never fade."_

* * *

"Moose, I told you to stop it."

Camille struggled to keep her voice even and ignore his lips on her neck but it was no use, he could tell when she didn't mean her words. His arms were wrapped around her waist from behind, his curls brushing against her left cheek.

"Come on Cam," His deep voice sent shivers down her spine and the grip he had on her waist seemed to grow tighter when she tried to playfully shove his grip away. She sighed heavily, hating how the urge to just give in and relax with her boyfriend was irresistible to her.

"You are killing me Moose, please—I have to study for this final test before winter break."

It had been a year and seven months since the meeting with Camille's father, a year since she was so easily 'freed' from her haunting memories. But apparently, that small meeting didn't help her too much. She was still damaged by her past; her heart was still shattered into a million tiny pieces. The nightmares weren't as frequent as they used to be before Moose came along, but they were common enough to cause her nightly fear if Moose wasn't holding her safely in his arms.

She hated to admit it, but he was her anchor—the only real thing keeping her from losing it.

Camille never wanted to be one of those types of girls; clingy, needy, a damsel in distress nearly all of the time. But to be honest, she was so damn _tired_ of having to do everything by herself, having to get through the world completely by herself.

So after all of this time, after being alone so long—it was damn reassuring to finally have an anchor to keep her ashore, to help her through each and every day.

She had told Moose of her concerns about three months before and he said she wasn't any of that; the conversation in itself causing the two to grow even closer if that was possible.

"You can take a few minutes to relax," He started to slowly move backwards towards her dorm bed, pulling her body with him but she escaped his grip and pushed him away—his back hitting the bed with a loud thump. He groaned loudly and Camille held back a chuckle as she moved over to her desk chair and took a seat. "Damn Camille, you really know how to kill a moment." Moose grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his back.

Their relationship stood at two years, four weeks, twenty six minutes and seventeen seconds.

But really, who was counting?

Both were at the dwelling age of twenty one.

Their last year of college was looming diligently, only a few months away but time seemed to be flying by for the two.

"I told you that I have to take this test in less than an hour and you are over here trying to get laid."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes in a mock-disbelieving matter. "It's always worth a try, who wouldn't want some of this?" Camille turned around just in time to see Moose pull up the bottom of his white tank top slightly; cockily showing the defined, tanned muscles of his lower stomach to prove his point.

She simply rolled her eyes in response, turning back around to face her desk so that the now bold ruddy color of her cheeks was hidden from Moose's prying view.

She couldn't deny his words as fully as she wished she could though, considering their intimate moments were still rather scarce even after two years of being stuck with him. He said he didn't mind and would wait until she was ready. But that didn't mean he stopped making any joke he could about it, whenever he could.

It took Camille a minute to find her voice again, shoving any wandering thoughts she had to the mental trashcan as she picked up her pencil and started to scribble down some notes in the margin of her study guide. "I can't believe how brash you are sometimes Moose, how do I even stand you?"

She shook her head as she talked, making sure he would be able to physically hear the sarcasm dripping from her words.

Camille could hear his move before he spoke, still shocked when her chair was suddenly spun around so that she could face him. Their close proximity surprised her at first, but moments later a frown highlighted her features. Moose had a smug grin plastered on his face and Camille was tempted to slap him.

She needed to study and he could be so infuriating at times.

"Why the pissed off face Cam?" She didn't give in to his heart-warming smile or allow her eyes to sneak a look at his distinct biceps, instead keeping her 'pissed off' facial expression.

"I have a test in," she glanced over at the digital alarm clock sitting next to her bed and grew even more troubled after seeing the time, "thirty minutes and you are over here fooling around. If I bomb this test, no graduation."

Moose was the one who rolled his eyes this time, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Baby, you are the smartest person I know, I have no doubt in my mind that you will pass." Camille felt her lips lift into a smile against her will as a comeback came to her.

"Well maybe I'm the smartest person you know because you only hang around idoits." She saw his expression change as he processed what she had said and by that time Camille was already cracking up, her calm laughter echoing around the room.

"You know what that isn't true," He couldn't hide the laughter in his tone and chuckled along with Camille for a moment before they both were composed enough to speak again. Moose took Camille's face in his hands, resting his forehead against her's this time. "Everything will be fine baby. You don't see me stressing out about my engineering test I'm already late for."

Camille's eyes widened in disbelief but Moose beat her to the punch and softly pressed his lips against hers before she could object.

His left hand stayed on her cheek as he deepened the kiss, trying to distract her from anything she could say. While his right hand on the other hand found a way under her white top, resting on the bare skin of her back. The action sent tremors down her spine as her hands got lost in his curly hair. Just as Camille started to grow lost in the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, she pulled away. He made an action to hungrily press his lips against hers again but she grumbled something he couldn't hear in a mutter and stopped him by pushing on his chest sympathetically.

The look Moose had on his face afterwards was close to something a lost puppy would represent, a longing for something more.

She ignored the guilt plaguing her stomach and exhaled. "Oh Moose, what am I going to do with you?" She uttered softly, reaching up and pushing one of his curls out of his eyes. He laughed, the pout replaced by a gentle smile along with a sinful gleam in his eyes.

"Well—"

She pushed him backwards lightheartedly, Moose catching himself before he hit the floor.

"Get to class you big idiot or else."

He complained like a little kid about to throw a tantrum but Camille stood up and started to push him towards the door. "If you fail that test—"

"What are you going to do?" He stopped in the doorway and turned towards her, haughtily showing a smirk on his face.

She gave him the best dirty look she could muster. "I don't know Moose, maybe you'll have to wait longer to get laid."

His mouth opened in argument but Camille pushed the door closed, laughing inwardly at what she had said.

He just wouldn't give up.

Then his distant voice sounded from the other side of the door with a smart-ass remark, startling her but causing a smile to grace her face none the less.

* * *

Camille exhaled in relief when the bell rang, slowly starting to load her things into her backpack. She was the last one to hand in her completed test and leave the classroom, seeing Moose waiting for her by the door.

Once he saw her, he moved towards her and pulled her into a short hug, the grin he sported not once leaving his face. She promptly ignored the stares from the other students that passed by, instead pulling back from the hug and looking up at Moose.

"Hey," he answered softly, his arms still resting around her. "Passed your test huh?"

Camille allowed a puzzled look to cross her face, "I hope I did, but how—"

He laughed, cutting her off. "You got a smile on your face number one. Number two, your left hand is tapping the rhythm of 'Break' non-stop on your book bag; showing that you are beyond happy. At least I think so—that's the happiest Three Days Grace song you own."

She was awed that he noticed, let alone shocked that he could tell what she didn't even know she was tapping. Camille hadn't even noticed her fingers drumming softly on top of her books; instead her mind was too focused on what she was going to do about later.

A few days ago, Moose had told her that he was leaving for his parents' house the day before Christmas Break started, and that was that night. So in other words, she would be left completely unprotected against her nightmares and even as stupid as that sounded; she was scared.

She wasn't afraid to admit that she was scared either, because Camille knew that the nightmares were enough to drive her over the edge.

Reliving all of those memories, each and every beating was more painful than anyone could think of. To hear someone tell you how worthless and stupid and slutty you are over and over is the worst kind of pain because there is no way to stop it; especially not in a nightmare. During a nightmare nothing ever ends and your worst fears are shoved directly in your face.

That's why she needed Moose.

If she became trapped in a nightmare, his arms would be there waiting and waiting to yank her out of her hell. He would be there waiting to save her. But she was going to be left alone without her savior, for two weeks.

"If you say so," she mumbled, a forgotten thought suddenly striking her once they started walking towards the lunchroom; "what about your test?"

Moose was silent for a few moments, portraying silently the language that he had failed the test. She grew worried as the eerie quietness proceeded, waiting for his answer all the while. He sighed before speaking, a hidden smile waiting for the right moment to jump to his lips. "Well it was hard, but I think I got a 94 . . ."

She turned to him, taking note of the bright smile and playful gleam in his eyes. "I knew you would pass,"

"He graded them when we all finished early, and I also knew you would've killed me if I got below a 90."

Camille was a sucker for good grades; anything under a low A was possible cause for her to go into cardiac arrest. She felt his arm go around her waist and pull her close to him. He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple; causing Camille to smile sensitively.

"That's great Moose,"

He was able to sense the disappointed tone of her voice that she tried so hard to hide. He stopped before they were about to exit the building to go and find lunch, gently grabbing her wrist and pulling her off to the side. "What's wrong?"

She was shocked at how quickly the tone of his voice changed, how serious he grew. She shook her head, dismissing the subject. "It's nothing; I'm just worried about tonight."

Confusion crossed Moose's face, "What's happening tonight?" He asked slowly, looking at her like she was crazy.

She nearly groaned out loud in frustration. "You are leaving to go back home in a few hours, and I just am scared to death about what will happen to me when you're gone."

His posture slowly grew less tense, shoulders going lax as he let out a laugh. "Didn't I tell you the good news earlier?" Camille shook her head, now the one who was puzzled. "My parents want you to come down with me so they can meet you. Maybe you kicked me out of your room too fast earlier for me to tell you."

She felt her heart pull in sixty different directions.

Her, meeting his parents?

Wouldn't he be ashamed?

Countless times, dread would taunt her veins; causing her to sometimes be near silent when she would hang out with his friends (_her_ friends, not just his anymore—he would scold her limitless times to use the correct wording). Afraid she would say something wrong or uncalled for and cause unneeded hate to be centered on herself.

Now to try and meet his parents?

He could see the sudden fear in her eyes and rubbed her shoulders, laughing in a calm matter to make her feel better.

"They won't judge Camille, c'mon I'm sure they will love you like I do. If not that, probably even more."

She rolled her eyes at his deductions, going to walk away but he grabbed her waist and twirled her back around towards him in a fancy dance move before she could get out from his reach. She used all of her strength to hold in her giggle, knowing he would tease her about it for at least a week if she allowed it to sneak out.

"Moose let me go, I'm going to be late to class!" Her voice was quiet, she was yelling at her boyfriend in a whisper-shout type of way.

The hallways was almost cleared now, the only other hints of human life was the few stranglers that loved to be defiant and late to class. His soft hand on her waist caused butterflies to stir in her stomach, the warmth burning her ice-cold body. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute, their sallow breaths intermixing with one another's. He dipped her downwards without warning, causing Camille to gasp in surprise.

"Moos—"

Before she was able to finish her sentence, her lips were pressed firmly against his; his arms tugging her closer and closer. Heat was all around her, engulfing her. His cologne invaded her nose as her eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feel of him around her. She would've been okay with going all the way in the hallway right then and there, even if she still wasn't ready. That's what he did to her, caused her to second guess everything about her.

It wasn't a curse, just a blessing that she had to worry about herself instead of not caring.

Softly, longingly—he pulled away, bringing her back into a standing position but now pulling her close to his body for a hug. Camille rested her head on his shoulder, moving and gently kissing his collarbone after a moment of peace. "I love you Moose . . ."

She wanted to say more, say all of the loving things that were on her mind but couldn't find it within herself to say any of it. So she allowed her sentence to trail off in a mutter, Moose laughing. His laughter caused his chest to rumble like an earthquake and oddly enough it brought her peace to feel his heartbeat, feel his breath, and feel the fact that he was alive—breathing.

He slowly pulled back, Camille leaving the comfort of his arms against her will.

The sudden sound of the class bell ringing caused them both to jump and Camille groaned out loud in frustration. "There goes my no lates record," She muttered angrily, Moose chuckling to himself.

You wouldn't know it unless you were really close to her but Camille Gage was the ultimate school nerd.

"Come on Gage, with you dating me? You didn't honestly think you were going to keep that record until we graduate, right?"

She rolled her eyes, "Actually I believed I was going to make it through school while ignoring you." She replied good-humoredly, causing Moose to frown.

"Just for that, you have to walk into class alone now," He answered, turning and jogging away.

Camille's eyes widened and she tried to reach out for him before he disappeared but it was too late as he moved out of her reaching range. "Moose! Moose, you asshole!"

He turned so he was walking backwards and looked at her, lopsided smile present on his face.

"Sorry Chameleon! I love you!"

Soon he was out of her sight and she sighed, unable to get rid of the grin on her face anyway.

* * *

Shannon and Robert Alexander the Second greeted Camille with open arms as soon as Moose and she walked through the door.

The only difference, Moose told her, about their tradition of names is that he has a different middle name than his father and grandfather. His mother always told him that it still meant he was the Third, not that Moose didn't mind. Shannon always loved the named Julius and actually wanted that to be his first name but her and his father worked out a deal because Moose turning out to be the Third in the line was such an important thing to his father.

When Camille and he would talk about the future, Moose would say if he ever was to have a little baby boy he wouldn't give him his name. It was annoying at family reunions and he wanted his son to be different—with a name picked out by his wife and himself.

He wasn't one on contentment to marriage yet though; during one of their sensitive talks he told her it scared him.

She said that was alright, and afterwards he finished with saying 'though I still want to spend the rest of my life with you' and ambushed her into a heavy make out session.

Camille is clad in a black long sleeved tee-shirt, a beautiful sliver chain necklace framing her neck. Moose insisted that she didn't need to dress up and she listened against her will, but still managing to throw on some nice jewelry to make her look somewhat extravagant. Sliver stud earrings with specks of sunset colors in the middle are sticking out of her ears. On her bottom half was a fancier pair of black sweatpants with her usual tattered converse.

Moose on the other hand didn't even try to look fancy in any way, shape or form. He threw on a white V-neck along with some grey sweatpants and his Special Edition Nikes before they left, his red sweatshirt was disregarded at the door to his parent's house once they entered.

She is pulled out of Moose's protective grip by his mother first, tugged into an awkward hug.

"Oh it's so great to finally meet you Camille! Moose has told us so much about you."

Shannon is a short, slightly plump woman with happy lines by her lips from smiling too much. Her hair is a lighter brown, like the color of chopped up milk chocolate. Her eyes are a bright blue, like the sky is trapped in her orbs. She's bubbling with happiness at finally getting to meet Moose's long-term girlfriend. Moose's father stands off to the right, a strained smile on his features. He seemed torn with something, his expression not too happy behind the false looks. "It's so great to finally meet you M—"

"Please, call me Shannon. The last name makes me sound way too old dear."

A shadow of a smile was on Camille's face after Shannon's words and soon the two were heading into the dining room to set the table. Moose couldn't stop smiling after seeing the two walk away, he was very happy with the outcome of the family meeting so far.

"Robert," Moose turned at the mention of his name, looking at his father with confusion. He held back the wince that threatened to break out under his father's stony glare.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?" His tone was laced with disappointment, Moose could swear there was a secret layer of hate in his words.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, running a hand through his dark locks. There were barely noticeable hairs of slivers near his forehead and ears—the color mostly covered up by the black dye. His brown eyes were dull with the aftermath of life in general, tainted by a dominance. He wasn't too tall, just tall enough to scare you if you didn't know him. He wasn't bulky with new muscles like Moose was now, almost taller and bigger than his father, just the needed biceps and veins to keep him young.

"This has to be a joke Robert, come on now. Send her home and grab your girlfriend from the hotel down the street." Moose grew angry at his father's words.

His heart was pounding heavily in his chest, he thought his father was done with pulling this kind of shit.

He used to do this to anyone Moose tried to bring home as a friend.

It took multiple tries before his father finally stopped telling his son to 'go and find the real group he belonged to' with his main group of friends from school.

Back when Moose was a teenager and went to MSA in Maryland, he had met a girl named Andie who had some pretty bad-ass dance skills. He brought her home as a friend and his mother instantly loved her while his father acted like an ass and would make snide comments about her poor lifestyle every time she came over.

That didn't harbor the two's friendship, they still talked here and there to this day.

It just annoyed Moose that his father was still acting like a two year old with 'rich people must date and be friends and stick together' because it wasn't like that anymore. Any rich kids at NYU were bitchy and Moose strayed from that, finding Kido and all his friends now from luck.

He was glad to have them and Camille and if his father dared to do otherwise—Moose was sure to take him to the ground and be in charge for once.

"Don't start this shit up again Dad. Mom told me you were over this phase, if I had known you weren't I wouldn't have come home."

Robert shook his head, the veins in his arms budging from anger. "Watch your mouth with me son. This isn't a 'phase', this is the truth. You need to settle down with someone who will support you and your future family; not some bum you pick up out of the street."

He raised his voice slightly to get the point to Moose, but his tone was still hushed so Shannon and Camille couldn't hear him from the other room.

"Camille isn't a damn bum. I love her, hell, I would do anything for her and I know she would do the same for me. Just because she isn't from a higher lifestyle like you doesn't me she isn't one of the best human beings in the world and if you want to keep making spiteful comments about her—you can never talk to me again. I'll never come back to visit."

A smirk, a chuckle, a scoff.

"You would break your mother's heart. You could never do such a thing."

Moose took a step towards his father, eyeing him threateningly.

He wouldn't let anyone hurt Camille anymore, no matter who tried.

Even if it was his own father. "Try me Dad,"

They stood like that for a few minutes until Camille popped her head in, "Hey guys, Shannon said dinner is ready."

Moose looked at his Dad for another split second until he turned and slug an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, leading them both back into the dining room. Robert followed them out, directly behind the two. He talked loud enough for his father to hear him but soft enough for Camille to read the earnestness in his voice. "I love you Cam, you know that right?"

She playfully hit his arm in response as they took their seats at the table, Moose quickly pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before Shannon entered the room. Moose's father stared daggers at them, angry with how immature his son was acting.

He would get rid of that girl, if it was the last thing he would do.

His son deserved better.

The rain pounded from outside the house, thunder causing the humble home to shake every time it rumbled. Moose's father closed the curtain of the dining room window as a thriving bolt of lightening flashed. He took a seat next to Shannon while Moose and Camille sat across from them, Shannon was throwing question after question at Camille while they ate.

"So Camille, what do you do outside of NYU?"

Moose took another forkful of mashed potatoes off his plate and shoved them into his mouth, grateful to taste his mother's fatty cooking after it being so long. Camille could cook just fine, but you never truly fall out of love with your mom's cooking.

She swallowed her green beans before answering, sending a smile to Moose's mother. "I have a part-time job working as a waitress in the diner just down the street from NYU, it's such a sweet little place. You should be worried about Moose over here, he's juggling two jobs along with his classes."

Moose hid his blush, knowing Camille was going to get it later for bringing such a thing up.

Shannon looked proud as she glanced over to Moose, "He's always been a hard worker. Not stopping until everyone else in happy."

Camille nodded, "Part-time at a grocery store and then part-time as a dish guy in the bar. He gets good tips from drunken people. I swear Shannon, I tried to tell him not to overwork himself. He didn't listen." Shannon laughed happily as Moose sent his girlfriend a glare.

"You can't be trusted with anything Cam," He muttered sourly, Camille placing a hand over his to console him.

Robert watched from across the table with uncaring eyes.

"Why do you have two jobs though honey? I'm sure one would be fine,"

Moose almost didn't want to answer but then glanced over at Camille who sent him a reassuring nod, signaling that she was okay with him telling his parents. She was proud to say she loved him and beyond happy that he felt the same way and wanted to always be like that—always wanted to show it.

"Um . . . well we wanted to save the news until after graduation . . ."

Out of the corner of his eye Moose saw his father go ghostly pale and nearly smirked but held it back. Shannon wasn't worried, but her face showed concern. Moose wanted to roll his eyes because he knew they both thought he got Camille pregnant. He wasn't _that_ immature.

That was to be saved until they were both ready, they hadn't even gone all the way yet in the first place.

"What is it dear?" His mother questioned, Camille sending a look to Moose which shouted 'just-tell-them-and-get-it-over-with'.

He exhaled once before speaking again, "Once we graduate, Camille and I decided we wanted to move in together afterwards. There are some really nice apartments on the outskirts of New York. I mean, we basically share a dorm already anyway. I want to support her." Moose looked over to his Mom, "I love her, with all of my heart. Honestly."

Shannon just beamed at her son, honored at his words. She was glad he grew up to be so outgoing with his feelings.

"That's great honey, really. I'm glad—"

"Move in together huh?" Robert's voice cut off his wife's, muffled by the steak he was still chewing.

Moose sent him a livid glare, "Yeah, you have a problem with that Dad?"

Moose's father finished his dinner, gently placing his napkin on top of his plate before speaking again. "No, no . . . no problem at all. I just thought we still lived by the golden law still—how the woman is supposed to do more work than the man?"

Shannon sighed heavily, rubbing her face with her hands. "Robert," She chided, Moose cutting her off before she could finish.

"Well it isn't going to be like that for _us_ Dad. Camille has been through a lot in her life. Things no person should be submitted to. If I want her to have everything, then she will have everything. If she wants something, I'll give it to her."

Robert only scoffed, his face visually scrunched up in disagreement.

The room went silent for a few moments after that, Moose and Camille's hands intertwined underneath the table. Shannon kept glancing from her son to her husband and then over to Camille, worry laced over her every feature. Robert avoided his wife's eyes, but didn't stop sending scowls Moose's way. Moose kept a hold of Camille, making sure she was okay after being submitted to his father's words. She was content with how Moose defended her.

"Moose dear, could you clear the table for us please?"

Shannon's voice broke the silence once everyone finished eating, knowing the conversation had to be brought back somehow. Moose nodded before grabbing everyone's empty plates from the table and heading into the kitchen, Robert taking this as his moment to strike.

"What the hell happened to your face?" Shannon held in her gasp and instead slapped her husband on the shoulder lightly.

"Robert don't be so rude—"

Camille laughed nervously, "No, no it's okay. Not rude at all." Shannon sent her a calm smile. "My Mom died when she had me and my Dad went for prison for what he did afterwards. Um, before he was hauled off we got into a little stupid argument when I was about four. I remember it to this day still because, well, how could you forget? He got mad at me and before I knew what was happening; a thick, plastic cup was coming full force at me. Followed up by a glass bowl afterwards. All in the same spot and a forever lasting thing."

Moose reentered the room, a solemn look on his face as he heard the ending of the story he hated with all of his guts. The night Camille told him about how she got her scar was the night he was ready to smack her Dad in the face with a board.

Shannon reached across the table and grabbed Camille's hand, rubbing her fingers over her skin. "You still look as beautiful as ever dear and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Even my idiotic husband."

The girl smiled, not noticing how her sleeve slowly moved upwards and stopped at her elbow, revealing the scars up and down her pale skin that never healed.

They were like red beacons in the dim dining room lighting.

Robert got a malicious glint in his eyes, looking from his son to Camille and then clearing his throat as everyone turned to look at him.

Thunder rumbled outside, "What are those?"

He nodded his head towards Camille's arm and she went frozen upon looking down. Moose swiftly moved forwards and pulled her sleeve back down, Shannon's hand falling limp back at her side.

"Um, I uh they aren't . . . it's n-nothing . . . "

Camille's voice was quiet and fearful, horror clutching at her insides. "Nothing? Fall down the steps or something? Run into a belt?"

Camille squeezed her eyes shut at the mention of the latter and Moose grew irate. "Shut up Dad, she doesn't want to talk about it."

Robert looked at his son, "I would like to know who this girl truly is if you insist on dating her."

Moose threw a protective arm around his girlfriend, feeling her head tilt into his neck; her face resting there.

Her eyes were still shut, nightmares racing behind her eyelids.

"You don't need to know shit about Camille if she doesn't want you to," Moose bit, his voice holding so much venom she thought his father would shut up in fear.

He didn't.

"I won't let you date any bitch or slut that isn't worthy of the family name!"

The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, even the rain seemed to slow at the booming sound of Robert's voice.

They were all too shocked to speak after that, Moose didn't even have enough time to process Camille darting out of his arms and into the bathroom down the hall. Once he realized she was no longer nuzzled into his neck, he jumped up after her and left his parents to fight out in the dining room.

He was beyond pissed at his Dad but right now Camille needed him. He needed her. He knocked softly against the white door, resting his forehead on the polished wood.

"Camille? Baby? Please answer me."

He paused, listening for any type of response from the other side of the door.

The only thing he heard was the yelling coming from the other room.

He sighed heavily, "Baby, baby please. Please just unlock the door so I can come in. I want to help baby."

He knocked once more and his heart pounded in his ears, the blood in his veins wild with unease. He listened intently for the click of the lock. Silence pursed for a minute. Until he heard it.

Within seconds of hearing the lock click he slowly opened the door and entered the bathroom, shutting it tenderly behind him. Camille was sitting on the titled next to the sink, her knees pulled up to her chin and face buried in her hands. Moose hastily took a seat next to his girlfriend on the ground, hushing her and pulling her into his side like a hug.

He knew she was trying to cry as quietly as possible.

He tried to pry her hands away from her face but she didn't let him, acting stubborn in the matter.

"Camille, please. Please let me in." Silence. "I love you Cam. You know I do. You know I would never let anything happen to you."

She couldn't hold it in anymore.

After his soft-spoken words she lost it and allowed the substantial sobs to shake her body, pushing her face into his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around his broad torso. He looped his arms around her slim figure, holding on just as tightly as she was. He rested his chin on the top of her hair, "It's alright baby. It's okay. It's alright. You're perfectly fine . . . "

He tried to soothe her the best he could, in any way he could.

It killed him to see her like this after all she had been through.

She was in so much pain.

After a while her sobs calmed into loud hiccups. Her head lulled in the crook of his neck, her hands playing with his fingers. His arms were wrapped loosely around her now, after knowing she wasn't going anywhere he figured locking her in a death grip might not have been the best way to go.

They sat in peace, neither knowing exactly what to say to break it.

Moose knew what Camille was thinking and she knew what he was thinking.

The yelling from his parents had quieted down now, Moose figured his Dad fooled his mother into drinking some wine and made up with her that way. He nearly rolled his eyes at the thought.

"I shouldn't have done this to you." Her voice jerked him out of his musings, Moose looking down at Camille in confusion.

His thumb was now tracing circles over hers. "What do you mean Cam?"

His voice held a certain seriousness to it that Camille had never heard before, while she could still hear the moderate Moose she always knew in the underlying tones.

She shook her head, "We should have never started dating. I should've just left so you wouldn't get tangled up in me and my messes."

Moose paused and squeezed her hands. "You will never be able to get rid of me that easily. From the first moment I saw you, I knew I was stuck. I love you too much to ever leave you baby."

She didn't know what else to say.

Even in her lowest moments, he was the best man she'd ever known.

She settled with something that would be good enough for the two of them.

"I love you too Moose,"

She stared down at their fingers, "Hey," She turned her head to look at him at the sound of his voice. There was a goofy smile present and she inwardly groaned.

"Moose please don't make some half-assed joke right now I don't think I can—"

He stopped her with his lips and she couldn't be happier that he choose that way to shut her up. Later, Robert was forced to say sorry to Camille by a fuming Shannon and pissed off Moose. Camille and Moose kept their distance from his father the rest of the time.

That night Shannon shunned the two to staying in the house instead of going back to the hotel because of the storm.

Moose had snuck into Camille's room long after his parents had fallen asleep, Camille lurching awake at the feel of someone wrapping their warm arms around her waist. A stomach was pressed tightly against her back. She turned to talk but he shushed her, "It's just me. It's okay baby,"

She smiled to herself and settled into the feel of Moose around her, the feeling of safety and love he brought with him. She knew no nightmares would be plaguing her that night. "Moose?" She knew he was barely awake, as he always was when he would stumble into bed with her to save her from her nightmares.

"Yeah?" His voice was deep and riddled heavily with drowsiness.

She knew he must have had a lot of trouble getting to her room. Camille held in a chuckle at the thought. "You'll always be here to protect me from my nightmares right?"

Yes, she sounded liked a little kid. But sometimes, everyone needs a little reassurance.

She felt him move closer and his nose hit her shoulder. "Of course. Always and forever Cam, no damn monsters are going to get to you while I'm around."

She was glad of his joking attitude even when he was half-dead with sleep. "Thank you baby," She whispered, Moose pressing a sloppy kiss to her neck in response.

"Goodnight Chameleon." He muttered, as Camille laughed softly at her nickname.

"Goodnight Moose, I love you."

His breathing evened out as he fell into a deep sleep, Camille following a few moments later. She knew she would be without any more pain for a while and she was grateful for that.

Moose was her protector, her savior, her true love.

She never used to believe in fairy-tales.

They appeared too fake to ever be real.

But with Moose at her side, those fairy-tales seemed as real as they could be.

She finally found her knight in shining armor and was never going to let him go.


End file.
